


Eighty

by BulimicSpacePug



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Jeremy is a little bit gay, M/M, Masturbation, Phone Calls, multitasking masturbating, page 80, petition to make "multitasking masturbating" a common tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 05:33:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11891079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BulimicSpacePug/pseuds/BulimicSpacePug
Summary: Page 80 but gayer.





	Eighty

“Um...okay. So what are you doing?”

He’s masturbating still, watching some low-budget lesbian porno, which he guesses is a little bit creepy to do while he’s on the phone with his friend, but it’s not like he’s masturbating _to_ Michael. He’s multitasking masturbating.

“Checking the web for some stuff,” he says vaguely.

“Cool. What are you up to the rest of today?”

“I want to go down to the...the bowling alley in, ah, New Brunswick. A-ask around for some people, y’know?”

Okay, so maybe he’s not multitasking masturbating anymore. He’s not gay or anything—doesn’t the porn prove that? He eyes it disinterestedly, his eyes glazed over. It’s a couple of blonde girls who look like they could be sisters or maybe half-cousins, and Tall Busty Blonde is eating out Tiny Boobs Blonde, and really Tiny Boobs Blonde is loud and obnoxious and Tall Busty Blonde looks like a cheap prostitute which he guesses she is, and the whole thing just turns him off but then there’s Michael, his tired rasp, the subtle grittiness in his voice, and—oh god, maybe he is gay.

And maybe he should have kept his mouth shut.

He’s kicking himself for it the minute the words leave his mouth, because _fuck_ , does he sound weak. Micheal must notice it, too, because the other end of the line grows eerily silent. Jeremy panics. He’s still got his dick in one hand, which is much less mortifying than it probably should be, and he’s scrambling to hang up the phone when Michael clears his throat.

“Jeremy,” he says, deadpan. He’s totally zoned. 

“Yeah?”

“You’re jerking off, aren’t you?”

“...No?”

“I’ve slept over at your house, like, a million times, man,” Michael presses. There’s a pause—Jeremy sees him, his eyes half closed, as he brings the joint to his lips—and then an exhale. “I know what you sound like jerking off.”

“Oh,” Jeremy says lamely.

“Yeah,” Michael says, mimicking his tone. Another pause. Was that a zipper? Then: “So, what are you watching?”

“Oh, ah, you know,” Jeremy stammers, bringing his attention back to the screen. Tiny Boobs Blonde is all but screeching, her nails digging into Tall Busty Blonde’s shoulders, her mouth agape in a completely un-sexy manner. Slowly, he clicks the little red “x” in the corner. “Lesbians.”

“Lesbians?” Michael scoffs loudly. “You always struck me as more of a gay porn kinda guy.”

“What!?” 

“Y’know, big black guys with giant dicks and those whiny little white dudes with bad haircuts that moan like—”

“I get it, Michael, stop! Jesus.”

“Really, though,” Michael says, his voice hitching. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Jeremy feels his face heat up. Yeah, he’s seen his fair share of gay pornos, but he’s not about to admit that to Michael. Not while he’s still jerking off, his legs trembling, the moans rising in the back of his throat, and Michael is still on the phone, breathing softly into the receiver.

“Jeremy?” Michael asks. He moans suddenly, soft and rough and needy, and Jeremy puts two and two together and nearly comes right there. 

“A-are you...?”

“Touching myself?” Michael’s voice drops an octave. “Fuck yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna...gonna go finish up,” Jeremy mumbles. “Call you back?”

“Sure thing,” Michael breathes. “See you in five. And Jere?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry,” Michael says, and Jeremy can hear the smirk. “I won’t tell anyone you get off to my voice.”

“Wait, what?”

_Click._


End file.
